June 22nd, 1917, France

Dear Joe,

Just a line to let you know I'm still kicking. I got mother's last letter yesterday, and she said you were looking for an answer to your letter. I sure answered, but I'm writing again in case you didn't get it, and don't you forget to write me often, as I haven't heard from you for I don't know how long. I know you'll have been working pretty steady, and won't get much time for the likes of that. And your eye must bother an awful lot. I've wished lots of times I could help you, but wishing is about the only thing, when we're so far away. But hang on, Joe, and when I do get back, we'll make things hum between us. Mother tells me we've got some multiplications since I've been away. I was surprised that you had another colt. Things will be getting Jakeroo, now that Nellie is in tugs. Let me know how the pigs are getting along. I guess they'll be a good price by now, and the grain question seems to be the corker now, at the price it is and can't get it away. But I hope it don't drop too much before you get rid of it.

Well Joe, you wonder how I like it over here. I'm not altogether fed up yet, but there isn't many but what will be glad to get back to Canada again. In fine weather it's fine doings, but it rained two days last week, and don't mention the mud if we get two weeks of it, which I hope won't be yet, as the weather cleared up again and we are getting it just as hot as Canada. We are not particular as to dress here, and I don't have to wear kilts yet, and have our pants chopped off at the knees, which is a great help, and no buttons and brass to shine. But we get all that back at the rest camp, or what they call rest camp, but I prefer this to them, for we have to do the usual drill when we do go back, we will just get all kinds of different jobs. I've been steel laying this last week, and you bet we don't make much noise, and when Fritz's puts his star lights up, we just freeze still, till they go down again. All this kind of work has to be done at night, so they can't see us, and we get used to feeling things now, instead of seeing. If he ever does see us, we soon know it. But we don't mind a little shelling now and again, as one can hear them coming. And to hear them after they leave the guns, they just sound like an express going over a bridge. But of course the bridge isn't there. Well Joe, I could tell you lots of interesting things, but I'll have to wait, as one has to be very careful now. I know that some of my letters don't seem to have much in them, but you'll know why. What do you think of the field cards I sent? They sure don't tell much, but they are very handy if I can't get time to write. What to you think of old (erasure here) now? I think we're mostly all over here now, but pretty well split up, some in the (another erasure).

I got parted from Davy my old chum, but am still with a few and get on OK. What do you think of this chicken as a Scotty, eh? Do you like the pictures I sent? Don't forget to address letters just the same, and tell mother there's no difference in my number. That sticks right with me till I get discharged. You must have thought it funny me putting my address in my other letter right in the middle of a page. But we have orders not to put them in the heading now. I guess the idea is that no one will notice the address if they look in. Oh I forgot: what do you think I hit on yesterday? A strawberry patch between shell holes. I wished I could have shipped it over to mother, and some garden roses growing in the ruins. This must have been a beautiful place before the war. Well I'll have to finish now hoping this finds you all in the best of health as this leaves me, love to all from,

Frank